


Romantic Idyll

by kiss_me_cassie



Series: Idyllic [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton's Farm, Established Relationship, F/M, Gratuitous Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her eyes traveled from his face to the cracked mirror above the vanity dresser to see what he saw... She looked back at him and gasped at the look of naked arousal on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romantic Idyll

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a deleted scene from [Summer Idyll](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6553909/chapters/14995159). Gratuitous smut didn't feel right for that story, so I decide not to include it and made it a stand alone fic instead. No knowledge of Summer Idyll is necessary, other than knowing Natasha and Clint are semi-retired and living on his farm. And honestly, I'm not even sure you need to know that much. *g*

He was in the barn again, using the old target he'd found up in the hayloft to practice his shooting. 

Natasha lay in bed and listened to the sound of his arrows hitting the target, picturing him standing with his legs spread and with the leather armguard on his wrist. He'd be in his ratty purple t-shirt and the muscles of his arms would be straining against the thin fabric as he held the bow taut.

She loved watching him like that, loved seeing the play of muscles beneath his skin and the look on his face as he concentrated.

She wondered idly if she should go meet him in the barn, maybe practice a few shots of her own. She was nowhere near as proficient with a bow as he was, but she wasn't bad. 

Or maybe she'd just go out there and watch him instead. That could be fun, too.

She stretched beneath the sheets, intending to get up and join him, but the brush of the cool cotton against her bare legs made her think of his hands touching her, his skin against hers. She breathed in the scent of him that clung to the sheet and shifted against them again, enjoying the sensation.

With a small sigh, she abandoned her plan to go out to the barn and instead slid a hand down her belly and beneath the edge of her panties. Her fingers tunneled through the nest of curls between her thighs and she slipped one finger and then another inside. The heel of her hand pressed against her clit and she shivered. 

Fuck, that felt good. 

Throwing off the sheets all together, she set up an easy rhythm as she stroked herself, keeping time with his shots, her fingers sliding in deep when she heard his arrows strike, sliding out while she imagined him reloading his bow. 

She was close to climaxing when the sound of arrows stopped, and she momentarily stuttered to a stop before slipping her fingers against herself again. He usually came upstairs after practicing. What would he think if he found her like this? She bit her lip to keep from crying out at the thought. The stairs creaked and she arched her hips, increasing the pressure against her clit.

"Hey, Nat, I was thinking --" He stopped as he entered the bedroom and caught sight of her, his eyes darkening with desire. " _Natasha_."

Her eyes traveled from his face to the cracked mirror above the vanity dresser to see what he saw. Knees raised and splayed to reveal her hand buried beneath the waistband of her underwear, nipples hard and peaked beneath the thin cotton of her camisole, lips bitten red from holding back her moans, eyes hooded and glassy, hair tousled. 

She looked back at him and gasped at the look of naked arousal on his face.

"Take them off," he commanded, moving to the bed and hooking callused fingers into her underwear to drag them down her legs. They caught on one of her ankles, and he left them there, eyes fixated on where her fingers rested, wet and gleaming against her pussy. "Show me."

Eyes never leaving his face, she began to stroke herself again, fingers moving artlessly. Her breath caught and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

"Don't," he growled. "I want to _hear_ you."

He hadn't touched her since pulling off her underwear, but she'd never been as turned on as she was now, with him watching her so intently.

She slid her fingers deeper, lifting her hips again as she increased her speed, her breath coming in short little gasps, her skin flushing with pleasure. Her eyes fluttered shut and she cried out, her body flexing against her fingers as an orgasm overcame her.

Long moments later, when she finally opened her eyes and slid her fingers from between her legs, he was still watching her intently, and she climbed to her knees, leaning over to kiss him wetly.

"Fuck," he breathed. Her hands brushed against his jeans, her damp fingers making quick work of the button and zipper. She released his erection, already full and hard.

"Your turn," she whispered, taking his lip between her teeth. He inhaled sharply, and she smiled against his mouth, reveling in the power she had over him.

"I want to watch you, like you watched me. Like I watch you when you think you're by yourself, when all you have is your hand instead of me."

"Is that so? And when have you watched?" he asked, his eyes drilling into hers.

"In the shower. After missions. In the gym." His breath hitched, and she took his hand and wrapped it around his throbbing cock. He fisted it and started to slowly stroke himself from base to tip and back again as she played him with her words. "I watch you pull and tug and slide your fist up and down, watch the way your eyes close as you imagine your hand is the same as being inside me, watch as you spill yourself and the water washes away the evidence."

His hand picked up speed, and all the while his eyes never left hers. She watched as his lips parted, as he gasped loud and hard, and then she felt a warm ooze against her thigh where she knelt above him.

He hauled her tight across his lap and kissed her long and hard, his tongue tangling with hers, and she moaned into his mouth.

"Fuck, Tasha…"

He peeled her tank top from her body, revealing her tight nipples, and she shivered under his heated gaze. A callused finger stroked the side of her breast, and then he was kissing her again, pushing her back against the mattress, his body hard against hers, sending electric shocks through her wherever the rough fabric of his denim jeans rasped against her sensitive skin.

His hand skimmed down her body, across her hip, and through the curls between her thighs to find her clit. He played her with his fingers like he played his bow and just when she thought she'd lose her mind, he pulled his fingers away and replaced them with his mouth, causing her to arch up towards him and cry his name. He was relentless, licking and biting and teasing until she lost all semblance of control for the second time that morning.

With frenzied hands, she pulled at his shirt and jeans until he was as naked as she was and then she rolled them over, kissing her way down his body so she could take him between her lips. He hissed in a breath. 

"Just how quickly do you think it takes me to recover?" he gasped, amusement lacing his voice even as his hips involuntarily pushed up at her, seeking more.

"Quicker than you think," she purred, her tongue tracing along the tip of his semi-hard cock. She sucked him into her mouth and caressed him with her lips and tongue until he was hard again, then climbed up his body and straddled him, taking him deep inside her.

They were slower this time, taking time for tender kisses and soft touches. Whispered words of need and want fell from their lips as they languidly slid their bodies against one another, enjoying the slow build of their passion. And when neither thought they could last another moment, they fell, sating their desire for each other one more time. 

She collapsed against his chest, breathing hard, and he gently brushed her sweat dampened hair from her face to give her one last lingering kiss. 

"Christ, Tasha, the things you do to me," he said, his voice husky.

"No less than what you do to me," she breathed drowsily.

"Mmm," he murmured, his arms wrapping tight around her as she slipped off to sleep, thinking how she'd never loved him or this farm more than she did at this precise moment.


End file.
